Thicker Than Water
by Kael-bail
Summary: Those found to have weapon blood are taken from thier families at the age of five, and put into camps and "adoption" cells until a meister chooses them as thier weapon. Only a select few kids can change that tradition. BETTER THAN IS SOUNDS I PROMISE!
1. Chapter 1

First I'd like to thank my friend Ashleigh, aka **elrickeyblade** on livejournal for the MAJOR editting that took place here. X.x She was my beta reader, and it turned into her being a co-writer. ^^;;;

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"_Please, don't take my brother!"_

"_You know the rules Mr. Evans. Weapons must be taken."_

_The young man clutched his younger brother with desperate fingers. His dark eyes were watering heavily, pleading with the men in front of him to change their minds, though he knew it was in vain; they were from the Guard, sent out to fulfill their duty of collecting of-age weapons. _

_Wes Evans held his brother tighter to his chest, even as the men's surly eyes narrowed at him in contempt. He had been trusted to take care of his brother, and wasn't about to give up that trust now. _

"_Hand him over," a Guard bellowed as he grabbed Wes' arm and twisted it. The elder Evans yelped and released the child; to his horror, his brother was then snatched up by another member of the Guard._

_The five-year-old__ blinked slowly as he was carried off. "…Wes…?" _

_Wes thrashed and twisted helplessly in the grip holding him prisoner. "SOUL! Give me back my brother! SOUL!!!"_

**Chapter 1**

"Alright, Maka darling. Take your pick."

The blond sighed. She had never liked the idea of someone picking their weapon like this. It reminded her of picking out a dog from the pound, all of the weapons looking so sad and dejected. Most of them were looking out at her with a look that clearly read, _'Please? I'll love you forever'_, and it made her uncomfortable. Some obviously came from horrible backgrounds; they were too afraid to come anywhere near their possible meister.

Maka's gaze wandered from one cell to the next as she tried her best to discern who would be the right partner for her. Even though she felt uneasy of the normal custom of meisters choosing their weapons on their fifteenth birthdays, she favored choosing a female. Unfortunately, female weapons were hard to find and often located in remote areas that were too far for her to travel to. It would be sensible for her to settle for a male weapon instead, but most of the weapons she was looking at seemed too mentally shot to really be of any use to her. She moved to turn away when a cell in particular caught her eye.

It was dark, but the weapon inside wasn't standing near the bars of his prison like the rest. He was sitting in the corner with a pair of DJ Headphones over his ears, humming softly to himself as his hands moved rhythmically in patterns across his knees.

Acting on a sudden whim, she turned to the guard and asked him to unlock the cell before her. The boy's eyes snapped open in distaste from the high, loud screech of the iron door before he rolled them and slowly stood up. He put his hands in his pockets and shuffled out to where he was beckoned.

Maka considered him for a moment, circling him to check his condition. "What kind of weapon are you?" she asked.

The weapon merely gave her a bemused look, not even bothering to open his mouth.

"He's a scythe," the guard answered. "Rather exotic. And pricey."

She looked him in the eye, and he stared right back with a look so emotionless that Maka blinked. "…I wanna see how he feels in my hands." The boy raised a brow before being smacked in the back of the head by the Guard.

"You heard the meister," the man bellowed. "Transform!"

Maka scowled a little and felt her father flinch behind her, reminding her that she didn't come alone to this place. The weapon in question glared sharply before forcefully tugging on Maka's hand and doing as he was told, shifting into a long-armed scythe.

He wasn't heavy, as she thought he would be. Rather, he was light- light, and warm. Sparks and jolts softly danced through her fingertips as she spun him over, in front, and behind. She didn't know what this feeling was, but…it felt right.

Maka turned a beaming smile to her father, who was watching their interaction with a question in his eyes.

"Papa, I think I've found my weapon!"

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While her father went to fill out the necessary paperwork, Maka decided to take this opportunity to get to know her weapon. She stood before the wall he was leaning against, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Hi there."

He glanced at her, headphones over his ears once more, before removing one to hear her better.

"My…name is Maka Albarn." Maka continued. For some reason, she was starting to feel shy about the whole thing. "What's your name?"

He hesitated a moment, running a hand through pale white tresses. "…Soul….Soul Eater Evans."

Maka smiled brightly. "It's great to meet you, Soul. I'm sure we'll make a wonderful-"

"Tch," he cut in as he covered his ears once more, and she frowned. She didn't even finish what she was going to say!

Before she knew it, she had yanked the headphones off his head, making him yelp in protest. "You know, it's rude to ignore people when they're talking to you!"

His response was to throw his head back with a sigh, eyes staring up into what little could be seen of the sky through the slatted ceiling of the prison. "It's also rude to yell at people," he muttered quietly.

She blinked. "Well-"

"He's yours now, Maka!" shouted her father as he and the guard walked up to her. Flustered with the sudden interruption, she turned to her papa with a face covered with skepticism. "Should you really be talking like that, Papa?"

His only answer was a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting from his questioning daughter to her suddenly curious weapon. "Let's get the both of you home, shall we?"

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As a weapon- and a rare one at that- Soul had expected a lot of things should he ever be discovered by a compatible meister. Harshness, isolation, greed…and many other things besides, all learned from stories told by the old castaways that took up room in the weapons' quarters.

He didn't expect a harmless, somewhat annoying stick of a girl.

"We're home, Mama!" she exclaimed when they walked through the first real doors he had seen in a long time. He stopped in his tracks, hands in his pockets, while his new meister ran up a flight of stairs. He could hear her chatting to someone in an animated voice, but at the moment it was nothing more than background noise.

The house was…clean. Or messy. Or maybe it was a bit of both. On one particular wall was cluttered from top to bottom with frames and photographs, and the surrounding walls had the eerie appearance of blank cleanliness. Turning, he could see a kitchen tucked in the right corner of the house, and an adjoining dining room that consisted of a messy fruit bowl and a dusted table.

"So you are Soul? You've been here only five minutes, and yet my daughter has already told me so much about you."

He glanced to his left. There stood his new meister and a tall woman- must be her mother. His arm twitched, as though to lift itself and maybe wave or something.

The girl smiled, then walked over and touched his arm. His eyes glanced from her face to her hand on his arm as she announced, "Mama, this is my new weapon, Soul. Soul, this is my mother."

Footsteps sounded, startling him into looking around until he caught sight of her father smiling sheepishly in the doorway. "Isn't it wonderful, Kami? We have another scythe in our family!"

"Family?" Soul echoed, confused. What was this guy saying? He was a weapon, a thing used solely by his meister and for his meister. Heck, he was surprised he even had a meister. How did being a part of their family fit in with all this?

…Wait. Another scythe?

"Looks like we're going to have to bond sometime soon, boy." The father walked straight up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Before Soul's widening eyes, he then transformed his other arm into a sleek, black scythe blade.

The woman, Kami, smiled at his reaction and took his hands in her own. "That's right, Soul. You're not just a weapon." She then kissed his cheek, making a slice of uncomfortable heat prickle between his cheekbones. "Welcome to the family."

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After some discussion and making sure Soul was comfortable, Kami handed Spirit her credit card and asked him if he would take Soul out to buy new clothes. Being her weapon, he of course had agreed.

The two weapons went to a nearby mall and browsed a few stores in silence. Then Spirit decided it was time for lunch.

"Hey Soul, you hungry?"

The teen blinked, a loud growl from his stomach answering for him, and the older weapon laughed. He led Soul to a small, hole-in-the-wall burger joint for lunch, where he ordered them both meals before they sat at one of the small tables.

For a while, neither of them made a move to say anything. Then Spirit cleared his throat and asked, "So, Soul…how long were you in cycle for?"

The young scythe shrugged slightly. Even he wasn't entirely sure. "10 years or so…"

"Wow," the red head mused. "That's a long time. Were you ever traded?"

Soul shook his head. "No. I've been in cycle for 10 years…was never tested 'til today…"

Spirit let out a low whistle. "Anyone else in your family a weapon?"

Another shake of the head. "My parents left me to live with my older brother. Then the Guards came when I was a kid. Haven't seen him since."

Spirit deflated a bit. Since leaving the cycle, he had almost forgotten the depression that followed. Not for the first time was he grateful for the happiness Kami had introduced to his life when she bought him.

He sighed a bit, smiling at Soul. "Well…those years are over. You have a family now."

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When the two weapons returned home they were greeted with laughter in the kitchen and probably the best smell in the world--well, to Soul anyway. Spirit cheered, sauntering into the kitchen and kissing his wife, and daughter. Soul crept after him quietly, observing the spectacle with mild curiosity and disbelief. He couldn't remember a sight like this; honestly, he couldn't put a label on the emotion that filled the room. What baffled him even more was the fact that the father- a _weapon_- was included in this scene just as much as the others.

Kami placed a cake on the table. "Come along everyone, it's time to celebrate!" She motioned Soul over.

He nodded once, walking over with more than hesitation in his step. He glanced at the cake, reading the red lettering: _Happy Birthday, dearest Maka._ Then he noticed the corner, written in blue: _Welcome, Soul._ He stared in slight shock, blinking as Spirit lit the candles, the two parents singing to their daughter. Once they had finished, Maka turned to Soul with a smile. "Make a wish," she said. "Blow out the candles with me." He stared at her for a moment, before nodding and closing his eyes.


	2. Kael is a tard

To my dearest readers and followers of this story, as well as anyone new that comes along.

No. I am not abandoning this fic. I still have a lot to do with it.

Truth is, I work full time now. I am in a HUGE writers block. I'm currently working on another, less important fic to try and get my muse back, and I think it's working. I can promise you that I WILL get another chapter up. I WILL continue this story. I'm just so sorry it took so long.

With love

Kael


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